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Showing posts from June, 2013

The Trump Card

              It was another crap day in Dry Prong and I was fit to be tied.  For days on end the weather had been gloomy, gray and wet.  Rain kept on coming and not letting up at all and I swore I thought I saw someone pull out their canoe.                 I looked over at Willodean Ferris’ house and so far it hadn’t budged off its foundation, not yet that is, but her yard was beginning to look like a pond or so the geese thought so, for there were three of them gliding along the water. I decided to give her a call.                 “Hey Willodean, how are you holding up?”                 “Oh, I guess alright, but you know, I’m really worried about something?” Her voice got all shaky when she spoke.                 “What’s troubling you?” Now, if you know Willodean like I do, then you know a bug could have smiled at her and she’d be having a fit.                 “Well, the geese seemed to have found a home in my back yard and . . . well, what’s gonna happen when the water